


Deal With a Devil

by ZimsMostLoyalServant



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Deal with a Devil, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I just wrote it, Story outline by a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28957968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZimsMostLoyalServant/pseuds/ZimsMostLoyalServant
Summary: On the anniversary of Tallest Miyuki's death, her closest friend is offered a chance to set things right, for a price.
Relationships: Original Irken Character & Tallest Miyuki, Original Irken Character & Zim
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Deal With a Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ngrey651](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ngrey651/gifts).



> Hey there, everyone, Zim'sMostLoyalServant here again with another oneshot.
> 
> So, as it turns out, Ngrey651 and I have birthdays only a couple of weeks apart. Discussing this led to us agreeing to do an exchange of story prompts as gifts for each other. What follows is me keeping up my end of the bargain.
> 
> Well, that's all I've got to say, except to once again wish everyone health and well-being in these tough times. And happy birthday to you, Nick!
> 
> Oh, a reminder that Senior is Ngrey651's OC, used with permission.
> 
> Read on!

It was another day on the _Massive_ , as the enormous spaceship and the surrounding vessels of the Irken Armada floated through the void on their way to the next planet on their conquest list. Soldiers trained for eventual combat in the battles to come, technicians scurried from place to place to keep everything running, janitors cleaned, service drones carried food to their superiors, and on the bridge, navigators and communications officers kept the ship moving and talking to the rest of the Armada while the Tallest sat in reign over them.

Well, normally they sat in reign, when they weren't preoccupied with whatever random idea crossed their minds. Such as right now.

"Whee!" a blindfolded Purple yelled happily as he swung Spleen around like a club, attempting to hit Skoodge, who was suspended from the ceiling by ropes tied around him. Both Invaders flinched as they almost made contact a few times, only for the violet Tallest to barely miss each time.

This went on for a few minutes, until the ping of a timer went off.

"Time's up, Pur. My turn," Red said with a smirk, standing off to the side, next to a row of nervous-looking Irkens.

"Hmph, fine," Purple grumbled, dropping Spleen to the ground, the big-headed Invader crawling away with a sigh of relief while Purple took his blindfold off. Red, meanwhile, looked over the Irkens lined up before him with a critical eye, before making his choice.

"Invader Sneakyonfoota, step forward!" he ordered. As the others all visibly relaxed, Skeanyonfoota gulped but obeyed, yelping as Red grabbed him by the ankles and picked him up.

"Alright, reset the timer," Red said, as he put on his own blindfold and spun around a few times to disorient himself. As the timer was set, he started hovering around the central platform, swinging wildly with his living baseball bat and trying to hit Skoodge.

"Well, I guess this is still technically better than that time they used randomly selected Elites as dartboards," Senior Communications Officer Nick, or just Senior to his friends, commented with a sigh from his station.

"Quiet," one of the other comms officers shushed him, "Before they decide to use us to play Whack-A-Mole again."

Unable to argue with that, Senior just sighed and slumped in his seat, watching as the leaders of the most powerful civilization in the universe used their best soldiers as game props. Moments like this made him wonder why it took something like one of Zim's screw-ups to ruin the Empire's plans, when they had this kind of leadership. Seriously, just look at that whole Florpus thing from a while back — Senior had been on a well-deserved vacation during that whole incident, but from what he'd heard, the Tallest had childishly refused to change course no matter what, and because of that they and everyone else onboard had spent days on fire in a puppet dimension before the Florpus spat them back out.

Senior tried not to be bitter about these sorts of things, but at times like these they still got to him. When had things gone so wrong that they had to settle for this as leadership?

As if on cue, an alert signal sounded from all the consoles. The sudden noise startled Red as he was mid-swing, causing him to lose his grip on Skeanyonfoota and sending the Invader flying into a wall.

"What is that?" Red snapped, ripping off his blindfold and glaring at Senior and the other communications officers.

"It's just the Imperial Central Calendar system, my Tallest," Senior replied, looking over his screen, "It's alerting us that the official date back on Irk has changed and that it's now… oh. Miyuki Memorial Day."

The mood on the bridge immediately dropped at that. This was a national day of remembrance for Tallest Miyuki, established by order of Tallest Spork to enshrine the legacy of his departed predecessor. Considering how beloved Miyuki was by all those Irkens with living memory of her, this was always a somber day for everyone.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that was coming up," Red said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly for a moment, before clearing his throat, "Right, we all know how this works. This is a minimum work day, so we switch over to skeleton crews, which will rotate out every six hours. So work those schedules out, chop-chop."

It didn't take long for the crew to switch over; seeing as these holiday skeleton crew schedules were preprogrammed in the system, it was simply a matter of checking. To Senior's relief, he wasn't on the initial shift. That meant he'd actually have a chance to process the annual reminder of Miyuki's death before he had to get back to work.

Signing off from his console, Senior left the bridge and started walking down the hall towards his quarters. Said hall was already being decked out for the occasion by the automated decorating systems, black banners marked with a sad Irken face sprouting from slots in the walls, while holographic images of Miyuki flickered to life in the spaces between the banners. Senior paused to stare at one of those for several long minutes, before sighing deeply and continuing down the hall, shoulders slumped.

Reaching his room, he entered and then locked the door behind him to guarantee his privacy. He then walked over to the desk next to his bed and pulled opened a drawer; carefully rummaging around in it, he pulled out a photo album and flipped it open. Page after page showed images of him in his younger days, both at the Academy, and at various pre- _Massive_ assignments.

And standing right next to him in most of those pictures, blue eyes alight with joy, was Miyuki.

They'd known each other practically since hatching, and been friends just as long, bonding over their more pacifistic world-views, which made them outliers among the general Irken populace. Sure, they'd had plenty of other friends despite the oddity of their ideals (Spork chief among them, for instance), but the two of them had held the closest bond between them. Heck, they'd practically been siblings, lack of shared genetics and the Irken race's abandonment of familial units aside.

He'd been so proud when she'd become Tallest, and hopeful. Hopeful that she could advance the Empire's interests without having to resort to the usual violent tendencies of their kind, leaving those methods in reserve for if and when the situation called for it, not relying on them for the standard. And it had worked so well, as shown by their alliances with the Vortians and others, with plans to expand to even more races. And most impressively of all, despite all these divergences from the Empire's norm, she _still_ managed to make herself beloved by the general Irken populace.

Then she was gone…

Senior grit his teeth to bite down on a sob as tears started forming in his eyes. He was normally better at coping with the grief, but every year on the anniversary of her death, his self-control slipped and he'd be overwhelmed with grief. This year, it seemed, wasn't going to be any different.

Setting the album aside, Senior lay his face into his hands and cried mostly silently for a few minutes. Eventually, however, he was able to compose himself. Wiping his eyes clear, he reached into the open desk drawer again and rummaged around some more. This time, he pulled out a bottle of Vortian firewhiskey and a shot-glass that he kept exactly for these circumstances, quickly filling the glass.

"Here's to you, Miyuki," he said as he raised the glass, "I hope you're in a much better place, and aren't too disgusted by what we've been reduced to without you."

With that, Senior downed the drink. As it burned its way down his throat, he paused and looked at the bottle still in his other hand. Just like every year, he told himself that he should stop after the one drink… and just like every year, he ignored that and poured himself another shot.

Before long, Senior was past tipsy and well on his way towards being completely drunk. And as was usually the case on the rare occasions this happened, he started talking to himself to vent his frustrations.

"Alliances broken for no reason, planets conquered just because they're there and turned into _parking lots_ , Irkens thrown out airlocks just for talking at the wrong moment… you wouldn't have let any of this happen!" Senior grumbled, gesturing erratically towards one of the pictures of Miyuki looking back at him, before taking another shot, "And all because a guy too clever for his own good made something he couldn't control and then let it get loose!"

It should be noted that under normal circumstances, Senior tried not to hate Zim for his role in Miyuki's death. After all, logically speaking he knew it was an accident; he'd been stationed on Research Station 9 as Chief Communications officer for even longer than Zim had been a scientist there. They'd gotten to know each other pretty well, and he knew that Zim meant well in his loyalty to the Empire, but there were times — especially now, with the alcohol lowering his inhibitions — he just couldn't help but feel rage at the Defective for his shortsightedness and all the damage it caused.

"Why can't he just _flirking_ think things through at least once?" Senior growled, "If he did, none of this would have happened. Miyuki would still be here like she's supposed to be! Irk dammit, Zim!"

With a shout of grief-fueled rage, Senior tossed his half-empty bottle at the wall, where it shattered. Realizing what he'd just done, he cursed at the waste and the mess, but as he stood up to start cleaning it, he paused as he noticed something strange. Namely that all the glass fragments on the floor were starting to vibrate and bounce.

"What the…?" Senior said, before yelping as the room suddenly shook hard enough to knock him off his feet. And then, before he could try to get back up, a swirling circle of green flames burst into existence in the middle of the room. Senior could only watch this in stunned shock for a few moments, before something shot out of the flames, hit the ceiling, and bounced off to land on the floor next to the flame circle, which rapidly closed and disappeared. The thing that had been spat out stood up, revealing itself to be a tall, rotund figure with long black hair and wearing a black coat.

"I am Mortos!" the figure shouted, "Tremble, puny mortal!"

"…I'm over here," Senior said from behind Mortos, who was facing the wall.

"Hmm?" Mortos mused, blinking his red eyes as he realized his mistake, before turning to face Senior, "Greetings, mortal space bug man! I am Mortos der Soulstealer!"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Senior said, "Now would you please mind explaining who you are, why you're here, and why I shouldn't call security?"

"Little friend no want to call security on Mortos. Mortos here to help you," Mortos said in a placating tone.

"And how's that?" Senior asked with a frown, feeling more confrontational than usual thanks to the liquor.

"First, let Mortos do one thing," Mortos explained. He raised one hand, which glowed with a pulsing green light as a dramatic wind picked up around him… and then he quickly poked Senior firmly on the forehead.

"Ow! Hey, what was that…?" Senior demanded, trailing off as he realized his head suddenly felt clearer, "Did… did you just sober me up?"

"Yes. Mortos needs you clear-headed for this conversation. There are rules about these things," Mortos stated, "Allow Mortos to exposit."

"You mean explain?"

"Mortos know what Mortos said!" Mortos exclaimed, "Now behold!"

With that, Mortos flung his arms out, and Senior yelped as the room appeared to fall away from them, seemingly leaving them floating in a black void. And then, before he could even fully process this, a spotlight shined down nearby. Looking towards it, Senior saw a large crowd of humans assembled inside a club of some kind, in front of a stage, on top of which stood a band of some sort. And standing front and center was Mortos… or at least, someone who looked like Mortos, though his skin was pale white instead of green-grey, his eyes were blue instead of red, and he was lacking his fangs and claws.

"Once, long ago, Mortos was humble aspiring rock star," Mortos said, as his past self rocked out on stage, "But Mortos never able to achieve lasting fame, no matter what Mortos try."

As if in demonstration, which it probably was, the scene shifted to the outside of what Senior assumed was the club he'd just seen the inside of. As he watched, Mortos was tossed out of the club by a beefy bouncer, landing in an open dumpster. Then, the scene seemed to reset and repeat, though Mortos was now wearing a different outfit. This happened several more times before Senior rolled his eyes and shot Mortos a dry look.

"I get the point," he said, "And you're saying that you used to be human?"

"Mortos getting to that," Mortos said testily, "Anyway, Mortos went through this rough patch for very long time. Eventually, Mortos grew so desperate that Mortos call out in his soul for way to become more than failed musician, and universe answered."

The scene shifted, once again showing the younger Mortos — dressed similarly to how he was in the present — trying to dig his way out of a dumpster. As he did, another man wandered down the street. He was wearing the ragged remains of what had once been a nice suit, had an equally-ragged beard and a manic gleam in his eye, and was clutching a large black tome to his chest.

"I don't want it anymore! This thing is a curse! I want to be free!" the man screamed, tossing the book in the dumpster and inadvertently hitting the human Mortos in the head, before running off down the street, repeatedly screaming "Freedom!"

"That's the universe answering you 'calling out in your soul'?" Senior asked, very confused as to where this was going or what it had to do with Mortos supposedly helping him with something. Mortos didn't bother replying, just pointing to where his past self sat up, rubbing his sore head for a moment before spotting the book. He blinked in confusion, before picking it up and flipping through it, an excited grin crossing his face.

"Mortos not think book really have magic," Mortos explained, "Mortos just think it weird old book with cool pictures and symbols that Mortos could use to spice up his act and finally earn fame. Well, book did change Mortos' life, just not how Mortos expecting."

As Senior watched, the human Mortos flipped eagerly through the book. A little too fast, as it turned out, as Mortos suddenly yelped, holding up a hand now sporting a fresh paper-cut. As he stuck it in his mouth to numb the pain, he didn't notice as a few drops of blood spilled on the page he'd stopped on, the symbols on which started glowing with a bright green light. Young Mortos noticed this after a few moments, but before he could react the book suddenly shot a beam of green light into the air, forming a glowing portal, which Mortos was sucked into with a yell. As he disappeared into the portal, it vanished with a snapping sound, leaving the book to fall to the ground.

"After that, Mortos was banished to Place Beneath the Overworld and transformed into demon, only able to return to mortal plane once every thousand years," Mortos said, as the vision of the past faded, returning him and Senior to the void.

"Wait, what?" Senior asked, blinking in confusion, "What do you mean, 'every thousand years'? I admit my knowledge of Earth history isn't that great, but I've read and watched enough of the random stuff Zim's sent our way to tell that that whole sequence looked like it was only a few years ago."

"Oh, time works differently in other realms. Mortos show you simple chart," Mortos said, holding up a chart showing numerous multicolored lines looping around and on top of each other in circles, oblongs, and rough infinity signs sticking out at various angles. It honestly looked more like a erratic attempt at a Rorschach picture than anything coherently explanatory.

"Uhh… I'll take your word for it," Senior said, shaking his head, "Listen, this is all very interesting — sorta — but I'm still not clear what it has to do with me."

"You see, Mortos spend long time as just regular demon," Mortos explained, "Only able to walk mortal plane for one night every thousand years, and forced to grant a wish to random mortal in order to return. But recently, there was a change in way things done in Place Beneath the Overworld, which Mortos first find out about while doing very important business."

Once again, a scene formed in the darkness around the two of them, revealing a vast, desolate wasteland underneath a pitch black sky. Screams and bestial cries could be heard in the distance, as flames periodically shot out of cracks in the ground. And on the edge of a nearby cliff overlooking everything sat Mortos… staring blankly into the distance and scratching his butt.

"Yes, definitely important. I can see that," Senior said dryly. Mortos either didn't notice the sarcasm or didn't care, as he continued unabated.

"Mortos received word from higher-ups," he said, as a creature that looked like a bat-winged gremlin wearing a mailman uniform flew up to the vision Mortos and handed him a letter, "Due to once-an-eon restructuring of infernal management, demons like Mortos now given new rules to work with. Instead of only being able to walk mortal universe one day a millennia, we now free to walk it all the time, but only if we periodically find mortals in desperate need and grant their deepest wishes."

"Okay, I think I get that," Senior said, after taking a moment to process that, "But I'm still not seeing why you're here. I'm not in any 'desperate need', so-"

"Yes you are!" Mortos proclaimed, "Mortos can feel your sorrow from far away. It what draw Mortos here in first place, like bright beacon compelling Mortos to come and offer his aid. So speak your truest desire, the thing it pains you to know you cannot have, and Mortos shall grant your wish."

Senior silently stared at the fat demon for several minutes, processing what he was saying. He wanted to deny Mortos' words, say that he was perfectly content with his life. But a part of him couldn't help but think back to his earlier feelings, the deep pain from Miyuki's loss that he managed to bury every year only to have it flare up again each anniversary. If there was a chance to avoid having to face that ever again, to undo the greatest mistake in Irken history…

"Okay, yes, there is something I want more than anything," he finally reluctantly said, "But I don't know if you can actually do it. You see-"

"If it complicated, Mortos just magically pull information from your mind. Mortos not have time for long exposition," Mortos stated.

"But you just-ow!" Senior said, crying out as Mortos poked him on the forehead again, "Do you _have_ to keep doing that?!"

"Yes," Mortos said, before closing his eyes and humming in thought, then nodding, "Hmm, yes, Mortos see your wish now. You want lost loved one returned, and person responsible for loss to pay."

"Whoa, hold on there!" Senior quickly interjected, "I never said anything about making anyone pay!"

"Not with words, but Mortos see it in your little bug-man space heart," Mortos said, "You hold grudge against one who caused this death, but repress it because you not like such negative feelings. But Mortos sees truth of it, and offers it to you without judgement."

"…What exactly are you offering?" Senior asked, choosing not to acknowledge that little psychological analysis, which was rather uncomfortably close to spot-on.

"First, Mortos will take you back to what you wish to change. Then we discuss details," Mortos said, waving one of his arms. The black void the pair were standing in disappeared, and Senior found that they were now in the middle of a familiar-looking hallway, the sight of which made the Irken's eyes widen.

"Research Station 9," he said in stunned awe, "I'd recognize the design of these halls anywhere. It's just like I remember-Ah!"

The reason for Senior's sudden yelp was the appearance of a Vortian scientist. Specifically, one who walked right through him like he wasn't even there, and kept on walking without a second glance.

"What the hell was that?!" Senior snapped at Mortos, while feeling himself over to make sure he was actually still solid.

"We only watching past, we not actually here and can't interact unless Mortos use his magic to do so," Mortos explained, "and Mortos only allowed to do that for pressing matters directly concerning wish that Mortos here to grant."

"Still, a little warning would have been nice," Senior muttered. Shaking his head, he started wandering down the hall, taking in the familiar sights that greeted him. It had been many years since he'd been on this station, but he'd spent so long here that he'd practically memorized every nut and bolt of the place. In fact, if he was right, they weren't that far from the main commissary.

Walking down the hall for a few minutes, Senior soon found himself at his destination, the main eating area of the station. It was a fairly large room, with vending machines lining one wall while another was taken up by a buffet being maintained by Food Service Drones, and a couple dozen midsized tables spread around the rest of the space. Seated at those tables were a number of the station's scientists and support crew, mostly Irken or Vortian but with a smattering of other species also present… and with a start, Senior saw himself seated at one table, chatting with several other crew members.

"Okay, that's a little disorienting, but I can just pretend I'm watching a video or something," he muttered, trying to shake off the weirdness of the situation.

"And then you know what I said? Huh, huh? You know what?" a familiar loud voice called out. Tearing his gaze away from his own younger self, he looked to the other side of the cafeteria and saw what he was expecting — Zim, wearing a white coat and seated at another table and bugging its other occupants, a pair of Vortians that Senior recognized after a moment's thought.

"We don't _care_ , Zim," Lard Nar, the present day leader of that stupidly-named resistance group, groaned from his spot right next to Zim.

"Just let him finish. You know he won't shut up any other way," S'ven Seventeeseven, known in the present merely as Prisoner 777 (and wasn't that an amusing coincidence?) commented from the other side of the table, where he was trying to tune Zim out and focus on his soup.

"And then I said, 'you ain't seen nothing yet', and then I blasted 'em!" Zim crowed triumphantly, before grabbing a handful of Vort dogs off of Lard Nar's plate, "Gimme some of those!"

Senior rolled his eyes as he watched Zim stuff his face and ignore the Vortians' glares. Pretty typical behavior on Zim's part, which kinda made it hard to guess when exactly this was supposed to be. Judging by what Mortos had said, though, he figured he could get pretty close.

"So, what exactly are we going to do here, Mortos? …Mortos?" Senior asked, frowning in confusion when he got no response. Looking around, his antennae shot up in surprise to see Mortos standing at the buffet, loading his arms up with whatever food he could grab.

"Hey!" Senior snapped, "I thought you said you couldn't interact with things here except if it's a 'pressing matter'?"

"If Mortos too hungry, Mortos can't grant wish," Mortos replied with a shrug, before stuffing half a mooshminky in his mouth. Senior facepalmed and sighed into his hand, deciding not to argue the point; this felt far too much like trying to argue a point with the Tallest when they were in a mood, and he knew that the best way to deal with that sort of thing was to just grit his teeth and bare it.

So he forced himself to wait, and after a few minutes Mortos finished gorging himself on the various snacks. As the demon gave a satisfied belch and patted his stomach in contentment, Senior cleared his throat to regain Mortos' attention.

"If you're finished, maybe we can get back to the point," he said, making sure to not actually intone it as a question. He was getting frustrated by this whole situation, and he wasn't going to let Mortos drag it on any longer than was actually necessary.

"Yes, yes, one more thing Mortos need to do before we begin," the demon stated.

"Like what, get a milkshake to wash down all those snacks?" Senior asked sarcastically. When Mortos' eyes lit up in excitement, he quickly snapped "That was rhetorical!"

Mortos frowned at Senior's tone, but didn't press the point. Instead, he raised one arm, glowing with green energy, and pointed at a random spot nearby. Another flaming circle like the one Mortos had first appeared from formed in midair above that spot, and a few seconds later it flared and spat out a figure which slammed into a nearby wall and slid to the floor in a heap. And as Senior got a good look at that figure, his eyes widened in shock.

"Zim?!" he exclaimed, as he watched the tiny Defective scramble to his feet.

"Who? What? Where am I?!" Zim shouted, looking around in a mild panic. Gaze falling on Mortos, his eyes narrowed in a glare and he deployed his PAK legs, "Who are you?!"

"I am Mortos! I have summoned you-"

"Who are you?!" Zim repeated, causing Mortos to blink in confusion before frowning and starting over.

"I am Mortos! I have-"

"Who are you?!"

"I am Mortos! I-"

"Who are you?!"

"I am Mort-"

"Who are you?!"

"I am-"

"Who are- MMPH!"

"Please shut up and let him finish," Senior said, hand firmly clasped over Zim's mouth. Zim blinked and stared at him, seeming to notice his presence for his first time since his arrival. Frowning, the Invader slapped Senior's hand away so that he could speak again, withdrawing his PAK legs in the process.

"Senior? What are you doing here? What is _Zim_ doing here? Where _is_ here? Who is the ugly fat man?" Zim asked rapid-fire, punctuating the last point by pointing at Mortos, who glared at him.

"Short version? This demon guy apparently wants to grant my greatest wish and took us back in time to do it," Senior explained to the shorter Irken, before turning to Mortos, "And why did you bring him back too? I already told you, I don't want payback!"

"And Mortos already say that you're lying to yourself," Mortos replied sagely, "Accept what you really want if you want Mortos to give it to you."

"Eh? Why would you want payback on Zim? Zim is incredible, ask anyone!" Zim protested. And before Senior could say anything, Zim marched over to a table full of Irken scientists, "Hey! All of you tell him how incredible Zim is!"

Naturally, the other Irkens didn't respond, causing the oblivious Zim to scowl at their perceived disrespect.

"Hey! Don't ignore Zim!" he snarled, while Senior facepalmed.

"Zim, they can't hear you," he said, but Zim ignored him and kept shouting at the visions from the past.

"Zim is speaking to you! Acknowledge Zim's amazing presence!" Zim shouted. When he still got no response, he growled and redeployed his PAK legs, "Fine! Eat hot plasma!"

With a yell, Zim fired repeated blasts at the table and its occupants, finally letting up after several minutes. And then the vindictive smile on his face slid off his face, leaving him blinking in confusion as he saw that he'd done absolutely no damage whatsoever.

"Like I was saying," Senior said, regaining Zim's attention, "They can't see or hear you, and we can't interact with them unless Mortos here makes it happen."

"…Yes, obviously Zim knew that, I was just testing you!" Zim said quickly. Ignoring Senior's eye-roll, he then said, "But why are we here, and what nonsense is this about wanting payback on Zim for something?"

Senior opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, a beeping noise brought his attention back to his past self, whose communications implants were flashing as they received an incoming transmission. Blinking in surprise, Past-Senior reached up to tap on the implants; eyes widening as he listened to the message, he suddenly jumped up.

"Hey, everyone listen up!" he shouted, "I just got word from the Head Scientist's office! He's heard that Tallest Miyuki is coming for a surprise inspection and will be here in a couple of hours! Everyone's ordered to prep their stations for presentation, right now!"

There was a moment of stunned silence, then the room burst into action, all the scientists practically trampling each other in the rush to get back to their labs. And of course, the younger Zim was first among them.

"Outta my way, outta my way, move it!" Past-Zim shouted as he shoved people aside or jumped over them, "This is Zim's chance to show the Tallest my brilliance, and you're all slowing me down!"

Within a few minutes, the room was empty, save for Mortos and the two present day Irkens. One of whom seemed very confused by the situation.

"Why are they talking about Tallest Miyuki? She's been dead since forever," Zim commented, "And why does that extremely handsome guy have the same name as me?"

"That _was_ you, and she's not dead yet," Senior snapped, "I _just_ told you that we were back in time."

"Did you? Zim wasn't listening," Zim replied. Senior groaned, feeling a headache coming on. Shaking his head, he looked around for Mortos and was mostly unsurprised to find that he was helping himself to a soda he'd grabbed from somewhere.

"If this is the day of her inspection, then it's also the day she died," he said, fighting back a tremor of intense emotion at the thought, "Did you really have to bring us back here?"

"Mortos must see whole sequence of events to know right place to intervene," the demon replied between sips of his drink.

"Everything?" Senior asked pleadingly, fearing he knew exactly what Mortos meant.

"Yes," Mortos said firmly.

"Zim has no time for this!" Zim scoffed, "I have much important Invader business to attend to, which I can't waste on rewatching my greatest moments. Besides, I already did all that at that party the Tallest threw for me on Judgementia."

"'Greatest moments'?" Senior asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "Is that how you describe getting Miyuki killed?!"

"Eh? Didn't she die in some accident?" Zim asked, blinking in confusion.

Senior's eye twitched in rage as he realized that Zim didn't even remember what he'd done. How dare he forget about the greatest tragedy in Irken history?

Zim, oblivious to the emotions he was stirring in Senior, shrugged and turned to walk away.

"Well, Zim has to go find a way home now," he said, "I left an experimental squid-ape hybrid gestating, and I need to make sure GIR doesn't let it out before-"

"You go nowhere, little bug man!" Mortos declared, pointing a glowing finger at Zim. There was a flash of light as Zim was engulfed in a puff of black smoke, and when it cleared, Senior was surprised to see Zim was now sitting in a chair, immobilized by straps running over his limbs and chest, with a ball gag in his mouth and clamps holding his eyes open.

"Er… isn't that a little extreme?" Senior asked.

"This way make sure that he not interfere with Mortos' observations, and also that he forced to see what his actions caused," Mortos explained, "Also, his voice very loud and annoying."

Zim gave several muffled protests, but Mortos ignored him and snapped his fingers. Senior yelped as their surroundings seemed to warp around them, before settling into the form of a hanger bay. Senior shook his head to clear it, looked around… and then the cardiac section of his squeedlyspooch shot into his throat.

There was Miyuki, resplendent in blue armor that perfectly matched her eyes as she emerged from her shuttle, honor guards following after her. It had been so long since he'd seen her in the flesh that his brain couldn't fully process it, to the point it took him several minutes to even see the group of Irkens she was talking to, including the Head Scientist of the station and his own past self.

"…of course pleasantly surprised by this visit, my Tallest," the Head Scientist was saying, "I am sure you'll find everything to your satisfaction."

"As I am. I have full confidence in all the great minds stationed here," Miyuki said, before waving the group off, "Now then, before we continue, I have a friend here I haven't spoken to personally for a while, so if we can please have the room?"

"Oh, uh, of course, my Tallest," the Head Scientist said awkwardly, bowing and quickly exiting the room, followed by the guards and other crew members until Miyuki and Past-Senior were alone. Once they were, she grinned and pulled him into a hug, which he happily returned.

"Should I flatter myself by assuming you made this trip just to see me?" Past-Senior asked with a playful smirk as they broke the hug.

"Don't go giving yourself a big head," Miyuki replied just as playfully, giving him a slight shove, "You being here is a bonus to actually getting to chance to get a good look at what's coming from this setup. Plus, this gets me away from Spork's whining for a few days."

"He still complaining about all the paperwork that comes with being Second Tallest?" Past-Senior asked with a laugh.

"Yes, even though he can push most of it off on the Advisors and other bureaucrats. I think he just likes to complain for the sake of it," Miyuki sighed, "But speaking of work that needs to be done, I better get on with this inspection. We can talk more afterwards."

"Right. I should get back to the communications center anyway. See you later," Past-Senior replied, giving a half-serious salute before walking off.

The present Senior felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he watched his final conversation with Miyuki play out. And they only welled up further as the scene seemed to dragged him along with it, forcing him to watch as Miyuki walked into the lab space where Zim worked, and was ultimately devoured by that damned blob of his.

"Stop it! Just stop!" Senior yelled, crying openly as he tore his gaze away from Miyuki's demise and glared at Mortos, "Why are you making me watch all this?!"

"Sorry. But Mortos had to make him watch too," Mortos said, pointing to Zim, who was still strapped in the chair. Senior blinked, having honestly forgotten Zim was there, before glaring at him, long-buried rage at what he'd done stoked by seeing it up close and personal.

Seeming in response to Senior's anger, Mortos snapped his fingers and Zim's gag disappeared, allowing him to speak again.

"Er, um," Zim stammered, looking a little disturbed at what he'd been forced to witness, "It… it was an accident!"

"You think that makes it better?" Senior snapped, no longer even trying to keep his anger in check, "She's gone, because of you! All the good she could have done for the Empire, for the galaxy, all destroyed because you made that thing and couldn't control it!"

"But, I-"

"You're the one it should have killed, not her!" Senior snarled, eyes bugging out in his rage.

While Zim flinched in shock at Senior's words, Mortos nodded knowingly.

"Mortos know this your true wish," he said, "Mortos can grant it, and make it so that blob thing eat little man instead of blue lady."

"What?!" Zim shrieked, "You can't do that to Zim!"

"Yes Mortos can, if that what green bug ask Mortos to do. But there is price," Mortos said, looking intently at Senior.

"Let me guess. My soul?" Senior asked dryly.

"No," Mortos replied firmly, looking dead serious for the first time, "You must watch as this happens. You must now look away for even a moment. You must take in every second, and live with it forever. Can you do that?"

For a second, Senior felt himself faltering. After all, it was one thing to wish harm on someone in a moment of rage, but could he really force himself to watch it actually happen?

"Come on, Senior, you're not really going to let this fat demon thing hurt Zim because of one little mistake, right?" Zim asked in a clearly forced calm, struggling against his bonds.

…And that settled Senior's decision right there, a scowl crossing his features. Not just Zim casually trying to brush this off, but the reminder that this _wasn't_ his only "little mistake". If Senior eliminated Zim here and now, he wouldn't just be saving Miyuki, he'd be saving countless others from all the destruction that Zim caused on a regular basis. That had to count for something, didn't it?

"Do it," he said, trying to not see the fear that appeared on Zim's face in response.

"As you wish it, Mortos shall do," Mortos proclaimed, throwing his hands up. The scenery around them shifted again, taking things back to just before the blob lunged at Miyuki. This time, however, before it could do so Mortos blasted it with a stream of bright green magical flames. It froze momentarily, before suddenly turning and throwing itself at Past-Zim instead, who screamed and started running around the room, the blob chasing him as everyone else stared in confusion.

"Senior, please stop this," Zim pleaded, while Senior watched the blob corner its creator in the corner, "Senior… Nick, please!"

Senior forced himself to tune Zim out and keep watching as the Defective's past self was wrapped in tentacles and lifted above a gaping maw.

"Zim doesn't want to die!"

And just like that, just as Past-Zim was dropped into the blob's mouth, Senior flinched and looked away, eyes shut. Then, realizing what he'd just done, he snapped his eyes back open and looked up… and to his surprise, found himself back in his quarters on the _Massive_ , Mortos looking down at him neutrally.

"What just…?" Senior managed to stammer, before the demon cut him off.

"You not have nerve to watch death in exchange for what you wanted, so Mortos stop it from happening," Mortos explained, "Your wish will not be granted."

"…I couldn't do it," Senior admitted, "As much as part of me hates Zim for what he did, I can't just watch someone get killed. Especially when I know Miyuki wouldn't have wanted that."

"You learn valuable lesson today," Mortos said, "Better to let grief go and move on, before it make you do things that you hate yourself for."

"Wait, what?" Senior blinked, "Was this some kind of test?"

"Sorta. Mortos fine with either outcome. It part of how new job work," Mortos shrugged, "Oh, and don't worry about loud, annoying bug man. Him back on Earth with no memory of this. Now, Mortos must go."

With that, another portal of green flames opened up, and Mortos flopped into it, letting in consume him and then disappear as fast as it had come, and leaving Senior alone in his room. Looking around and spotting his dropped album, he glanced at it briefly, then with a sigh put it away and lay down on his bed to rest and properly sort out his thoughts.

It was time to truly grieve, and then learn to live his life without letting his grief define him. _That_ is what Miyuki would want, he was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> And done. Sorry if the ending was a little rushed, but I was on a deadline and couldn't think of another way to wrap things up while still adhering to the outline Nick sent me.
> 
> FYI, Mortos originally being a failed rock star is a nod towards Eric Trueheart's original episode concept, as revealed in "The Medium Sized Book of Zim Scripts".
> 
> Anyway, Nick, happy birthday, and I hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Please comment, and everyone stay safe out there!


End file.
